


Loving is Not a Waste

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Get together fic, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Podfic Welcome, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16012208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: “What happened here?”Ryan scowls and sips his coffee harder. “You can go now.”





	Loving is Not a Waste

**Author's Note:**

> here is my very soft fill for 'high heels' for the shyan scavenger hunt! i have a porny fill i might complete later but i was deep in my soft heels, so this happened. disclaimer: i have zero medical knowledge and just winged and hand-waved it cuz it wasn't important haha
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing! 
> 
> enjoy!

“Oh, oh ho ho ho.”

Ryan flips Shane the bird.

Shane only grins brightly back in response. In his arms is a cup of iced coffee and a bouquet of tacky, multi-colored flowers. Ryan tilts his head and, yes, that is _definitely_ a teddy bear plush tucked under one arm. A flush of semi-embarrassed shame rushes across Ryan’s neck

“Fuck you,” Ryan snaps. He shifts restlessly on his hospital bed. It’d be useless to fluff the pillows again, but he urges to anyway, if only for something to do with his hands.

Shane walks closer with a cautious pace and one by one, passes over the gifts to Ryan. The coffee is first and Ryan sucks it down greedily, knowing full well if a nurse sees him with it, it’ll be confiscated. Then the flowers, but Shane sets those on the table beside Ryan’s bed. Then there’s the bear, and Ryan takes it oh so carefully.

He freezes as his fingertips graze the ridiculously soft fur, and Shane only nods. Ryan plucks it from Shane’s hand and holds it in his lap.

“S’cute,” Ryan mumbles around the straw in his coffee.

“Uh, yeah.”

Ryan looks up just in time to catch the fleeting traces of a blush on the apples of Shane’s cheeks. “Thanks.”

Shane shrugs and before long his face is splitting into a familiar shit-eating grin. “So,” he drawls. With one huge hand he gestures to Ryan’s ankle, wrapped in a black boot and sticking out from under the thin hospital blanket. “What happened here?”

Ryan scowls and sips his coffee harder. “You can go now.”

“Nope.” Shane drags a nearby chair over and the feet of the chair make an unholy screeching noise on the linoleum floor. “Spill it, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby,” Ryan snaps.

Shane raises an eyebrow.

“It was for a video.”

Shane lets out a startled laugh. “I would expect nothing less.”

“It could’ve been sports!” Ryan cries, indignant.

Shane raises the _other_ eyebrow.

Ryan sucks down his coffee like he needs it to breathe. Eventually, Shane shifts, attempting to get comfortable in the cramped, stiff chair. Ryan lets him suffer for a few minutes and takes great delight in watching Shane try to orient his gangly legs in some way that doesn’t make him wince.

“It was another video with high heels.”

Shane makes a sound of surprise and sits up a little straighter. “Really now?”

Ryan groans and finally sets his coffee aside. His stomach is twisting uncomfortably, and Ryan can’t tell if it’s because of embarrassment or just purely from drinking too much coffee too fast. “Someone was saying how I was a shitty sport in the last one I did, since I didn’t really try.”

“That’s true, you didn’t.”

Ryan wants to kick him _so_ badly. He settles for sticking out his tongue instead. “Whatever. I agreed to do another one, just with the promise of more _sensible_ shoes.”

“Fair,” Shane concedes. “So… what happened?”

Ryan looks down at the bear in his lap and rubs a thumb over a fuzzy cheek. It’s probably just some dollar store bear, cheaply made and hardly worth anything but.... Shane bringing it to him makes it worth a lot more. “I fell.”

Shane blinks. “Well, duh. I kind of put that together after you said it was for a video, and _especially_ after you mentioned heels.”

Ryan scowls again. “I was just trying to go down some stairs and I was doing _fine_ until, shit, man, I don’t even know what happened.” Ryan shrugs, rolling his shoulders and letting out a disgruntled sigh. “It’s just a sprain, but they’re keeping it in a boot until they send me home and then they’ll switch me to a brace.”

“Sucks,” Shane supplies helpfully.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Yeah,” he agrees.

“You gonna need some help?” Shane asks in an overly casual tone, one that ends up not sounding very casual at all.

“Uh, maybe? I dunno yet. They said it shouldn’t be too bad. Thank fuck we’re on hiatus right now, though.”

Shane nods. “I’d hate having to carry you all through a spook’s lair. Probably have to have you piggy-back. Might be bad for ratings.”

Ryan laughs even as a blush overtakes his cheeks. “Fuck you, man. Like you could ever pick me up.”

Shane leans back and lays an affronted hand over his chest like a southern belle. “Ex _cuse_ you, I totally could. It’s not like piggy-backing someone requires a ton of strength. You’d just hop on my back and we’d be raring to go.”

Ryan shakes his head, still laughing. “How am I supposed to just hop on? I can’t fucking hop.”

Shane pauses. “Hm, good point.” He taps at his chin. “Get you on a step stool, that might work.”

“That just sounds like _another_ sprained ankle, waiting to happen.”

Shane holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help. Gotta keep our show alive and all that good stuff.”

Ryan sticks his tongue out again. “When are you _ever_ trying to help?”

“You wound me!” Shane cries with a put-upon misery injected into his tone. “I’m your best friend, how could you be so careless?”

“Whatever, man,” Ryan says around breathy laughter. His gaze drops to the bear again. “Where’d you find this guy, anyway?”

Shane pauses just a beat long enough to be awkward. “Just, uh, something I had lying around.”

Ryan frowns at the bear. “This isn’t like a re-gifting, right? That’s sorta tacky, dude. And you fulfilled your quota of tacky with those flowers.” He nods to the bouquet still sitting on the table. “We should ask a nurse for a vase and some water, actually.”

“On it!” Shane says, scrambling to stand. He cracks his knee against the edge of Ryan’s bed but it doesn’t stop him. He clumsily salutes Ryan before hauling ass out of the hospital room and into the bustling hallway outside.

Ryan looks down at the bear, fuzzy and soft in his hands, and sighs. “Is he being weird, or is it just me?”

The bear doesn’t say anything, but Ryan likes to think it would agree with him.

 

 

Shane leaves not too long after that with a promise of returning the minute Ryan needs a ride home. _“I’ve just gotta feed Obi and pick up some groceries, I should be available if you need me.”_ Ryan spends the entire time waiting to get discharged clinging to the fucking bear. He hasn’t named it yet, because that feels at once too much and too juvenile. But he holds it close and strokes a fuzzy ear between his thumb and forefinger.

He’s cradling the bear and the bouquet in his arms as he stands at the curb, waiting for Shane to pick him up, a few hours later. He’s got one shoe in a plastic bag over his arm, and his clothes are wrinkled and disheveled. It’s not quite late but not quite early, either, and the chill bites at Ryan’s face as he waits.

A honk startles him and he clutches the bear tighter for a split second before headlights wash over him, and he faintly catches Shane’s face just beyond the windshield. Ryan waits as Shane throws the car into park and steps out.

“Need a hand?” Shane says, already striding toward Ryan with open arms. “Here, lemme take those.”

“I got it,” Ryan assures softly. “Just, help me into the car.”

Shane nods. He loops an arm with Ryan and guides him over to the car, pulling the door open and holding out his hands. “I’ll hold your stuff as you get in.”

More reluctant than he’d like to admit, Ryan passes the bouquet and bear over to Shane and practically falls into the passenger seat. He hisses slightly as he lifts his foot into the car, but waves off Shane’s concern. Shane hands the stuff back to Ryan before shutting the door.

“So, uh, I was thinking,” Shane says as he starts up the car again and starts to pull away from the curb. “I have the groceries in the back.”

Sure enough when Ryan twists to take a look, there’s several plastic bags littering the backseat, full of groceries. “Uh huh.”

“I wasn’t sure what you had at your place and I figure you’re sick of hospital food, even though you probably only had like, one meal.”

Ryan squints ahead, not quite willing to look at Shane. “Are you offering to make me dinner?”

Shane drums his hands on the steering wheel. “Yep.”

“Okay.” Ryan melts into the seat and fiddles with the bear in his lap. “Why not?”

“Really?”

Ryan snorts. “When have you ever known me to turn down free food?”

“Good point.” Shane turns on his blinker as he slows to a stop at an intersection. “Hope you like chicken piccata!”

Ryan shrugs and lays his head against the window. “Sure, man,” he says as exhaustion hits him suddenly. His eyes fall shut even though he’s basically spent the day doing nothing. “Thank you.”

“Of course. What’re ghoulfriends for?”

Ryan smiles.

 

 

The drive back to his place doesn’t take long, and Ryan starts to get out but Shane, of all things, shushes him. It’s weird enough to get Ryan to freeze as Shane kills the engine and clambers out of his car. He comes around to the passenger door and wrenches it open.

“Pass me the goods.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and hands over the bear and bouquet again, along with his plastic bag. Then he takes Shane’s proffered hand to help him up and out of his seat. Shane shuts the door behind him before they walk up to Ryan’s front door, arms locked together. Shane still hasn’t handed him the bear or bouquet, and Ryan’s hands kind of itch with the urge to take his stuff back. It’s stupid, really, but Ryan’s kind of getting attached to the bear.

Ryan leans forward and digs his key out of his pocket to let them in, and squawks somewhat indignantly when Shane ushers him inside.

“Okay, you sit, I’ll get the groceries and get started on dinner.” Shane herds Ryan over to his couch and helps Ryan to sit, and he’s about to walk away when Ryan clears his throat. “What? You need something?”

“Uh.” Ryan’s throat goes dry. “Can you put the flowers in some water first? I’m kinda worried they’re gonna die.”

Shane’s lips twist. “Thought you said they were tacky.”

“They are,” Ryan replies. “Doesn’t mean they need to _die_.” He makes a shooing gesture. “Pass me the bear while you’re at it.”

Shane hesitates for only a fraction of a second before tossing Ryan the bear and heading off to Ryan’s kitchen. “Do you even have a vase?”

“Somewhere,” Ryan hollers after him. He smiles down at the fuzzy plush toy in his lap. _God_ , what is wrong with him? It’s gotta be the prescription strength meds the doc gave him. Or something. His heart feels sort of fluttery in his chest, and his head’s been foggy all day. The fur is comforting under his fingers.

“They’re in an old cider bottle, for now.”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “That works, I guess.”

Shane smirks at him as he comes out of the kitchen and walks back to the door. “You good before I start hauling shit in?”

Ryan nods. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Shane assures. “I offered, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s back out the door and taking the porch steps quickly. Ryan sits back, his legs aching with the urge to curl up even though it’s more effort than it’s worth, and watches as Shane brings all the groceries in in one trip. He still has to go back out to shut and lock up the car, so Ryan isn’t really sure why Shane didn’t just make it two trips.

He asks as much and Shane shakes his head. “Oh, Ryan,” he says pitifully, as if that actually makes any sense. He hurries into the kitchen and leaves Ryan behind; soon enough the sounds of pots and pans and other utensils clanging together echoes around, and Ryan feels weirdly alone.

“Shane?”

“Yeah?” Shane calls back after a moment.

Ryan bites his lip. “Nevermind.” He sets the bear aside and pushes himself off the couch gingerly. His ankle really doesn’t even hurt that bad. It mostly just aches, a little swollen, and as long as he doesn’t put his weight on it too much he’s okay. He hobbles into the kitchen just in time to watch Shane drop a hefty amount of pasta into a boiling pot.

“Ryan, what the hell?” Shane asks, facing him suddenly. “Dude, c’mon, you should rest.”

“I’ve been resting all day, Shane.” Ryan clumsily dodges Shane’s attempt to reach for him. “I’ve also been holed up in a hospital room for most of the day, alone, and bored out of my mind. I didn’t wanna sit in my living room by myself.”

Shades of guilt cross Shane’s face. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan shuffles over to the dining table and falls into one of the wooden chairs. “This works. Cook away.” Ryan puts his chin in his palm and watches as Shane hesitates for a second longer before starting to flit around Ryan’s kitchen again. It’s kind of funny to watch, especially since while Shane can definitely cook, he’s nowhere near a professional.

He leaves streaks of flour across the countertops and he’s getting splatters all down his front: grease, lemon juice, caper juice, even. His hair steadily starts to stick up at odd ends as he brushes it back, and threads lines of flour through his hair. Ryan buries his snort in his hand as Shane startles back when the chicken hits the hot pan, but sighs pleasantly when the warm, aromatic scent fills his little kitchen.

He watches Shane forget about the pasta, and then promptly remember it with a soft curse. It’ll probably be overdone and mushy, but Ryan’s hardly in a position to be picky. Once the pasta is strained and waiting and the chicken is evidently cooked, things start to smooth out. Shane puts together what looks like a creamy sauce in one pan, throwing in mushrooms and capers and letting it simmer. He starts to wipe down the mess on the counters and cuts up the chicken before tossing it into the sauce.

Ryan can’t hide his bark of laughter when Shane catches his reflection in the window. “Jesus,” Shane mutters. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up real quick and then we should be good.” Shane moves toward the kitchen doorway.

“I think you’ve got some spare clothes in the hall closet, if you wanna change.”

Shane raises a hand in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything. He leaves Ryan alone with the scents and sounds: the sauce bubbling, chicken and lemon and the pickly caper aroma hanging over the room like a cloud. It’s warm and soothing and Ryan’s stomach actually growls.

Shane’s back just as Ryan’s starting to get worried over the sauce. “Perfect,” Shane declares, shaking excess water from his hair. He looks like he just ran it under the sink; there’s a clumpy line of flour still across one cheek, but Ryan doesn’t mention it. Shane’s switched out his shirt for something from the closet and it must be an older one, because it clings to Shane more than usual. Ryan clears his throat and lets Shane dish them both up.

“Wanna eat in here or in the living room?”

Ryan starts to move but his ankle twinges. “Here is fine. Did you pick up beer?”

Shane raises an eyebrow. “Can you even have beer right now?”

Ryan shrugs.

“Didn’t think so,” Shane says. He sets their plates down and gets two glasses of water. He places one in front of Ryan and keeps the other close. “So…”

Ryan pauses with a bite of pasta and chicken speared on his fork. “So...?”

Shane shrugs and starts to eat. The room is quiet save for the clink of their forks on plates and Ryan studies Shane as they eat. He’s definitely been weird today. Or, at least, weirder than usual. Shane’s a bizarre dude on the best of days but ever since he showed up at the hospital, he’s been…

“Squirrely.”

“What?” Shane looks up suddenly.

“You’ve been acting squirrely.” Ryan squints at Shane. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course.”

“That was very believable,” Ryan taunts, tone so sarcastic it almost hurts.

Shane frowns down at his plate. “I was just worried, okay?”

That stops Ryan in his tracks. “What?”

“You messaged me out of the blue and said, ‘I’m in the hospital’ and then wouldn’t answer any of my texts.”

Ryan’s ears burn. He’d sent the text just as they got to the ER and before he’d been whisked away to x-rays and the like. In all fairness, he was a little preoccupied to text Shane again, after that first one.

“Oh,” Ryan eventually says.

“I didn’t think it was anything too serious, since it was _you_ texting me and not, like, Jake, or someone from work. But still, y’know.”

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Ryan idly twirls pasta onto his fork. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about that.”

Shane shrugs. “I’m glad it’s just a sprain.”

“I’m never wearing high heels again, man.”

“Maybe I can teach you,” Shane says with a laugh. “I was a natural at it.”

“You were, Ally McBeal.” Ryan flashes Shane a grin at the same moment Shane pinks in the cheeks. “Seriously, though. Thanks, for everything. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Shane says.

They share another grin and eat quietly for a little while longer. The minute both their plates are cleared and Ryan’s turned down seconds, Shane takes their plates to the sink and starts boxing up the rest.

“I’ll leave it with you,” Shane’s saying, “You can just microwave it or throw it in a pan to heat it up.” Shane keeps talking about the best way to reheat the food as he shoves the tupperware containers into the fridge.

“Sure,” Ryan interrupts. “What was with the bear, by the way?”

Shane freezes at the sink. “What?”

“You were being weird about the bear.”

Shane doesn’t look back at him. “Uh. It wasn’t a re-gift.”

“Okay… what, was it from the giftshop? That’s sorta lame but also, like, the point of giftshops.” Ryan watches Shane shake his head as he starts to fill the sink with soapy water so the dishes can soak. “Dollar store?”

“No, Ryan.” Shane sighs. He’s gripping the edge of the sink and Ryan can see how bright red his ears have turned. “I, uh. Got it for you for your birthday.”

Ryan blinks. “What?”

“Your birthday, dude.”

“My birthday was weeks ago.”

“I know.” Shane busies himself with putting the dishes into the sink before reaching for a towel to dry his hands. “I chickened out.”

Ryan thinks back to the bear sitting on his couch. “But it’s super fucking cute, dude.”

Shane lets out a burst of nervous laughter. “Yeah. We don’t really _do_ that. Get each other cute stuff.”

“We could,” Ryan says with an ease he only partially feels. “I like the bear. He’s cute. And soft.”

Shane finally faces him and his expression is the same: cute, and soft. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ryan makes to stand and Shane rushes over. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he says, stopping only when Shane links their fingers. The moment freezes around them and Ryan looks at their interlocked hands. Shane’s fingers flex and squeeze Ryan’s tighter. “Oh.”

“The bear.” Shane starts then stops, then starts again. “It reminded me of you, cuz like. It was on this shelf with all these other big, huge bears but it was the only smaller one. I dunno.” Shane squeezes again. “Like I said, I chickened out, cuz I thought it would be weird.”

“It’s a little weird,” Ryan agrees. He takes a step toward the living room and tugs Shane along with him. “But I think I’m into it.”

“Really?” Shane asks as they hobble back to the couch. Ryan gestures for him to sit first and then practically falls onto the couch, nearly in Shane’s lap.

As he settles, exhaustion hits Ryan as suddenly as it had in the car. “Yeah,” he replies a little belatedly. He throws out a hand and reaches blindly for the bear. The second his fingers curl around soft fur he yanks it closer and holds it in his lap. “I like the bear and the tacky flowers and your weirdness.”

“Oh, well. Cool.”

Ryan turns and leans his head into the curve of Shane’s neck. He smiles against skin and inhales the vague scent of soap and flour.

“I like your weirdness, too. For the record.”

Ryan smiles a little wider. “And to think, we could’ve been doing this for a while if you hadn’t chickened out.” He squeals slightly when Shane pinches at his side. “Hey!”

“Better late than never, right?” Shane taunts.

Ryan leans back to look up at him and nods. “Yeah.”

Shane’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. He leans in swiftly and kisses Ryan. It’s gentle and easy and Ryan tilts his head so their lips slot together seamlessly. Shane licks into his mouth and Ryan hiccups a moan into the kiss. Shane presses harder into it, sighing and making his own pleased, quiet sounds, and doesn’t relent until Ryan lays a hand against his chest

“Ryan?” Shane asks, dazed as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You’re going to scar the bear,” Ryan whispers against his lips.

Shane snorts. “My bad. How terribly inconsiderate of me.” He reaches between them and plucks the bear from Ryan’s hand, despite his protests. “This better?” Shane asks as he sets the bear aside on the coffee table.

“Now it’s watching us,” Ryan says as he bites back laughter.

Shane sighs again and reaches over to turn the bear around so it faces the kitchen. “Better?” He asks again.

Ryan answers him with a kiss.


End file.
